Married to the Billionaire

The elegant ballroom shimmered with chandeliers and buzzed with animated chatter as it was turned into a splendid venue for commemorating my father's real estate company's tenth anniversary.  

The hall was crowded, and people sipped their drinks while enjoying the music of a live band playing soft tunes in the background. A scene full of charm and elegance that somehow couldn't fill the void I felt deep inside me despite all the beauty and luxury around. 

Amidst the crowd, I found myself wandering aimlessly as my steps took me in no particular direction. A gentle smile graced my lips, concealing the fatigue that weighed heavily on me as I warmly welcomed my father’s guests. 

Meanwhile, I scanned the crowd but couldn't spot my husband, Derick, anywhere. It felt like he was intentionally distancing himself from me, especially ever since he learned about my struggle to give him the one thing he longed for the most—a child. 

It was distressing for me, but it became even more painful when I realized he was pressing the blame only on me.

That day still lingered in my mind like a wound that just wouldn't close up tight enough to heal completely. The chill I saw in his gaze and the cutting tone of his words when he dismissed me as nothing but a worthless, barren wife lingered hauntingly in my memory from then on.

Eventually, our marriage turned into a hollow shell we both kept up for appearances’ sake and for the convenience of our families. 

I sighed while brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear as I scanned the room. 

Everywhere I looked, people were chattering and chuckling, celebrating the success that my father had built from the ground up. But for me, it was all just a charade. I felt like a stranger in my own life, trapped in a role I never asked for.

As I walked past the crowd, a flicker of movement caught my eye. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized Derick slipping through a side door, his hand resting on a woman’s back. I frowned, curiosity and a deep-seated dread washing over me. 

Who was that woman? And why does he look like he was sneaking out?

Curiosity, mixed with dread, made me move forward to find out. The noise of the party faded as I followed them down a dimly lit corridor, the sound of my heels clicking against the polished floor echoing in the silence. 

My breath caught in my throat as I realized where they were headed. 

The isolated small function hall was a place few people knew about, a quiet space used for private meetings. Suddenly, my heart pounded in my chest, each step was giving me a painful impact that I might actually unable to accept what I was about to witness.

When I reached the door, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle. A part of me wanted to go back, to pretend I hadn’t seen anything, but the gnawing suspicion in my gut was preventing me somehow. And so with a deep breath, I slightly push the door open just a crack, peering inside.

And there they were—Derick and Agatha, my stepsister, locked in a passionate embrace. Their lips moved together in a way that spoke of intimacy, of a forbidden connection that should have been mine. My breath hitched, and I felt the world tilt on its axis. The sight of them together, so close, so entwined, shattered something deep inside me.

“Derick,” Agatha’s voice was a soft murmur, barely audible through the crack in the door, “I’m a little scared. What if someone sees us?”

“Then let them,” Derick replied, his voice laced with bitterness. 

“What about Bridgette?” Agatha asked him.

“Bridgette’s too busy playing the perfect wife to notice anything.”

His words cut through me like a knife, each syllable a twist of the blade. I wanted to burst in, to scream at them both, but my feet were rooted to where I stood. For some reason, I simply couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but watch as they continued their infidelity.

Agatha giggled, the sound light and carefree. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

Derick chuckled, pulling her closer. “I’m just tired of pretending, Agatha. However, with you, I don’t have to. You’re everything she’s not.”

I felt like I was drowning, each breath a struggle as their words echoed in my mind. 

‘Everything she’s not”.

The truth of it was too painful to bear, a reminder of all the ways I had failed him. The ways I had failed myself.

“I love you, Derick,” Agatha whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” he replied, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “And I love you too. More than I ever loved her.”

The words were a final blow, one that sent me reeling. I couldn’t stay any longer. I backed away from the door, the tears I had been holding back spilling over. The sounds of their whispers faded as I turned and fled down the corridor, my chest heaving with sobs I refused to let out.

I needed to escape, to get as far away from them as possible. My legs carried me back to the ballroom, but the festive atmosphere felt suffocating. I needed something—anything—to dull the pain.

I made a beeline for the bar, my mind numb as I ordered the strongest drink they had. 

The burning sensation of whiskey in my throat was a distraction from the ache in my chest. Then came vodka, tequila, anything that comes my way. I needed to forget, to erase the image of my cheating husband, Derick, and my traitor stepsister, Agatha.

At the moment, all that I want to do was drown myself in the numbness, to silence the voices in my head that whispered of betrayal and infidelity. One drink turned into two, then three, and before I knew it, I had lost count.

And yet, the more I drank, the more the pain twisted inside me. “I cursed Derick for his infidelity, for being ruthless. I cursed Agatha for betraying me and for taking what little happiness I had left. And I also cursed this life for being so cruel to me.” I murmured, wiping the tears off my face.

The room began to blur around the edges, and even the faces of the guests merging into a swirl of colors. When I tried to stand, the floor seemed to tilt beneath me, and I stumbled, my vision swimming. 

That’s when I felt a pair of strong arms caught me, steadying me before I could fall. I looked up, blinking through the haze, and saw a man’s face—handsome blondie, quite matured and unfamiliar, and his oceanic blue eyes was all that I could fully visualize clearly.

“Woah, what do we have here?” His voice was deep, laced with amusement as he looked me over. “A damsel in distress?”

I giggled, the sound high-pitched and almost hysterical. “I’m no damsel, mister—” I slurred, leaning into him. “—or maybe I am. Did you come here to rescue me, my blondie knight?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what would you like me to do about it?”

I grinned up at him, feeling bold and reckless, the alcohol fueling my bravado. “Take me to a room, perhaps?” I whispered, brushing my lips against his ear. “Make me forget everything but you.”

The man’s eyes darkened with interest, his grip on my waist tightening. “Are you sure there’s no one who’d be upset about this? Another knight, maybe?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“No one would care,” I murmured, my voice heavy with bitterness. “No other knights would claim me, mister blondie, that means, I’m all yours for the taking. Do whatever you want with me.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “I like the sound of that,” he said, guiding me toward the exit.

As the doors closed behind us, I felt the last remnants of my old life slipping away. I was no longer the dutiful wife or even the good daughter. I was someone else entirely, someone who didn’t care about the consequences. And for tonight, that was all I needed to be.